The Godfather got it right: how did we ever come to this? When did so many of us begin to believe that today's recruits, mostly 18, are so soft and frilly, Pillsbury Doughboys who seek, who demand, kid gloves and that loving feeling when asked to play a sport that hits people in the mouth? Repeatedly? How is it we believe we are producing a generation of whiners, wimps, wusses and wannabees who expect to be escorted, gently please, to the playing field, game to be called if muddy or it snows, and parasols issued if it rains? Who expect to be told how great thou art by the head ball coach himself, no second line position coaches or coordinators, please, the head man only, preferably, white gloves, bowler and dinner jacket?\ Who have never heard a curse word and will faint dead away at the dreaded F bomb, words their parents never, ever, used and no coach or teammate ever uttered? Who will recoil in abject terror from a coach -- any coach from anywhere -- who is direct, straightforward, unapologetic, hard edged if you will? How did we get from the Greatest Generation to ... this? Well, of course we didn't. Some segments of the board need to grow up and accept that today's teenager is as tough as yesterday's -- omigod, even us, unthinkable -- and can deal with adult coaches who don't pull punches: they get room, board and tuition and nothing else that is not earned on the practice field. And should it come time to transfer to play, then god bless you and good luck. Good grief. You'd think Johnson comes with fangs and a coffin to sleep in. Wonder how he coaches during daylight.
